With every sympathetic look she found dulling her friends' eyes, with every comforting touch they attempted to mask as casual, Evie knew she wasn't doing as well as she could be at hiding the emotions shredding her inside. But it was getting increasingly challenging as the days passed by to continue pretending everything was alright. It was supposed to be okay by now, she was supposed to feel fine, but that's not how things seemed to be turning out, and she honestly considered giving up the faux act; she couldn't do that to her friends, though.
A sigh slipped passed her lips as she unlocked the door to her apartment, her body feeling heavy as she tried her best to ignore how empty the spacious area still looked to her. Setting her bag down on the entry table she made her way to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water and looking out the small window into the night, her mind blank and her vision immediately blurring as she lost focus on reality.
She was well aware that all of her friends shared the opinion that she should have moved on from her relationship already, she was well aware that they pitied her because she hadn't, and she couldn't help but wonder what Mal would think of her now. Her bitter laugh was broken as her mind berated her; she left you over a year ago, she'd probably think you're pathetic. Everything about it seemed insane to Evie now. Their relationship had seemed so perfect that she often still found it difficult to believe that Mal had broken her with such simplicity – almost as if it hadn't affected her in the slightest – difficult to believe that the girl hadn't taken a single look back. Mal probably hadn't thought about her even once since that night, but she couldn't stop thinking about her no matter how hard she tried.
Forcing herself to accept reality, she abruptly set her glass down and left the kitchen, her footsteps hesitant as she made her way to her room. She moved silently, coming to a stop in front of her closet, her fingers raising to brush over the polished surface as she swallowed the thick lump in her throat that seemed permanent. Deep down she knew she was pathetic, that she should have long since moved on, but nothing could change the way she still felt about the fiery, purple-haired girl that had stolen her heart.
"Yeah," Evie whispered to herself, fingers still dancing hesitantly over the door before her. "Mal would definitely think I'm insane."
With a heavy breath, she pulled open the closet, her gaze immediately finding the object that made her movements so cautious. The purple coloring of the jacket stood out within all the blue, the pink on the sleeves only making it that much more obvious who it truly belonged to.
Mal had let her borrow the jacket one night at the beach and just never remembered to reclaim it. She had been oblivious enough to forget a jacket of her own, thinking she wouldn't get cold, and when she had been proved wrong by the weather Mal had simply removed the hoodie she wore to give it to her, even going so far as to help her slip into it.
Evie hadn't meant to steal anything of Mal's, but there the hoodie was, hanging in her closet a year after their relationship had ended, and she was still unable to get rid of it. It was the upsetting truth.
And though she knew she shouldn't, Evie reached forward to close her fingers around the soft material of the jacket, pulling it from its hanger and slipping it onto her body as if it were habitual. She should throw it away or donate it, but even the thought of doing either tightened her chest until she couldn't breathe. She couldn't get rid of it, not when it reminded her of Mal and how blissful their relationship had been right up to the end, not when being engulfed in the material made her feel as though Mal were still around; it was sick, but it was all she could do to make herself feel almost human again.
It was the only thing she had left of the girl. She had lost the love they had shared, she had lost the feeling of her mouth against hers and the feeling of their bodies pressed together. She had given everything, and lost everything, everything except the hoodie that now warmed her body.
It was all she had.
You'd probably think I was psychotic, if you knew
What I've still got in my closet, sad but true
I slip it on over my shoulders
It's something I'll never get over
It makes me feel a little bit closer to you
I can't keep your love, I can't keep your kiss
Gave you everything and all I got was this
Closing the closet, she made her way over to her bed, removing her jeans before lowering onto the mattress and curling into herself. Her fingers manipulated the strings hanging from the neck of the hoodie as she shut her eyes tightly, attempting to rid her memory of the girl's flashing sea-green eyes and her smile; and before she knew she was doing it her teeth were closed around the bottom of the string in exactly the same way she had done when Mal had been the one wearing it. It was no use, everything made her think of the girl, she wanted to think of her. That's why she continued wearing her jacket, it's why she slipped into it every night before she went to sleep.
She was broken, completely shattered to the point where she couldn't get through a day if she didn't think about her life before. The life where they had laughed when Mal had broken the zipper of her own jacket trying to get it off Evie quickly; the life where she would get anxious every time Mal put out her cigarette by pressing it into the material of the jacket, only for the girl to take her mind off it with one look; the life where she had been able to call Mal hers. Now all she had was a worn jacket to drape over her shoulders, a broken zipper that brought tears to her eyes, and burns that now made her anything but panicked.
I'm still rocking your hoodie
And chewing on the strings
It makes me think about you
So I wear it when I sleep
I kept the broken zipper
And cigarette burns
Still rocking your hoodie, baby
Even though it hurts
Memories flooding her mind, she slipped her hands into the deep pockets of the jacket, unable to stop herself from doing so as she remembered the way she used to hold onto Mal by doing the exact same thing. The memory had her fingers curling around the inside of the pockets in pain as she ducked her head until the lower-half of her face was hidden underneath the purple material covering her body, only to find her chest constricting even tighter when the smell of Mal's old perfume overwhelmed her senses. It was as if Mal was still with her, yet she feared opening her eyes because she knew that all she would find was the empty mattress beside her.
I'll never get over you. She finally liberated a sob as she pulled the jacket tighter around her body in search of the small amount of comfort she knew it could bring, the comfort that came from the memories of being loved by Mal, of being kissed by her, the comfort that came from being able to keep the girl's jacket despite having failed at keeping the girl herself.
I used to put my hands in your pockets, holding on
The smell of your perfume is still on it, but you're still gone
I slip it on over my shoulders
You're someone I'll never get over
It makes me feel a little bit closer to you
I can't keep your love, I can't keep your kiss
Gave you everything and all I got was this
She wondered if Mal remembered she had never gotten her hoodie back, wondered if the girl ever missed being wrapped in its warmth; she wondered if Mal would ever want it back. And she knew that she would be right here waiting for the girl. It was probably the last thing that should happen, the last thing she needed, because it would more than likely break her even more than she already was. Still, she couldn't help but hope Mal would come back for the hoodie because of the memories it held, because of the meaning it had soaked into its material, and she knew she would be waiting for that day even as it never came.
She would be waiting – praying – for a day where Mal would come to take back the hoodie she wore every night, for the day where Mal would come to take her back.
If you want it back, if you want it back
I'm here waiting
Come and take it back, come and take it back
If you want it back, if you want it back
I'm here waiting
Come and take it back, come and take me back
But until then, she would continue pretending she was doing fine while slipping into the jacket that belonged to the girl who had broken her, she would continue pushing passed the pain to find the comfort in the illusion that Mal was still laying in the bed beside her every night.